Forever His
by PhoenixRising63
Summary: When Alice told Jacob that he had to leave town with Renesmee, he left. However, he was sure that someone or something was following them. Whoever it was didn't know that they should never take from a wolf what was his unless they had a death wish.
1. Chapter 1

Jacob's eyes flew open. His heart raced. Something had pulled him out of a sound sleep. His wolf, buried deep inside him, had its hackles raised in warning. It sensed danger. An overwhelming need to protect what was his surged hot through his veins. Instinctively he tightened his arms around the woman who lay asleep, snuggled up against him. The feel of her naked body touching his reassured him that she was safe. And breathing deep of her intoxicating scent soothed the wolf's agitation to some extent.

Renesmee had a way of doing that; always calming his wolf and putting it at ease. Always, without words, letting him know that she was his.

Jacob had been blessed to be holding in his arms the most beautiful creature that ever existed. She was his treasure. He had always watched over her and protected her ever since the day she was born seven years ago. In that short amount of time, she had grown at an astonishing rate. The freckled-face little girl was gone. In her place was an intelligent, strong-willed woman with a mind of her own.

He'd been a brother and friend to her in the beginning; but, as time passed, the imprinting, which bound their two souls together, had grown stronger. Inevitably, just a few months ago, they'd become lovers. Renesmee was the woman that which destiny had chosen for him. She was his whole life, his only reason for living. She was his very existence. And he would die for her.

Jacob focused on his immediate surroundings as he mentally wiped away the last remaining cobwebs of sleep from his mind. With the room bathed in shadows, save for the soft moonlight streaming through the room's solitary window, he relied on his heightened senses to pick up anything - sound or smell - out of the ordinary. The only thing he heard, however, was that of Renesmee's slow, steady breathing as she slept in his arms. By all accounts, they were alone in the room.

Then what had the wolf so agitated? Why had it nudged him out of a sound sleep so damn early; sunrise wasn't for another few hours. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was only two in the morning, and except for him, everyone under the roof of the Somerset House was fast asleep.

The Somerset.

What an odd little establishment located in an equally bizarre little town. They'd come across the bed and breakfast a couple of days ago during their travels. As they'd ridden down Main street on his Harley, both he and Renesmee, agreed that the whole town had seen better days. Many of the storefronts were abandoned. The only businesses that showed signs of life were a small mom and pop grocery store that boasted of a post office inside, a hole-in-the-wall diner that served the worst coffee ever, a convenience store with only one gas pump and, of course, this strange little B&B.

He had wanted to keep going. He had wanted to get to the next town before nightfall. However, when they'd passed the Somerset House, Renesmee fell instantly in love with the place. She had called it a fairytale cottage and insisted that it would be a very romantic place to stop. She said it had a feel to it.

It had a feel to it alright. Condemned sounded about right. And romantic wasn't the word that exactly came to mind when he'd stood in front of the dilapidated structure. Romantic? Try tragic. The place was more like a bottomless money pit ready to fall apart. Oh, in its day the two-story Victorian-style house with its turrets, gables and gingerbread lattice, was, he guessed, the crown jewel of the small ghost-like town. But now what the old girl needed was a major facelift. An overhaul from top to bottom. Or a bulldozer and a match.

However, standing at the front desk two days ago and seeing the look on Renesmee's beautiful face was enough to do him in. He couldn't say no and so paid for the room.

Now the two elderly sisters who owned the place had been thrilled to death to have guests. And even more excited that he and Renesmee had decided to stay not one but two nights with them. The old bats couldn't stop whispering and giggling amongst themselves. Just like the house, they were timeworn. The women appeared sweet, but there was something about them that Jacob couldn't quite put his finger on, other than the fact that one sister was hard of hearing and the other nearly blind.

For now, the old ladies didn't concern him. He planned to leave with Renesmee once the sun was up and their bags were packed. What did bother him, though, was the uneasy feeling of danger nearby.

Reluctantly he disentangled himself from Renesmee's tempting form to take a look outside. But before he did, he couldn't resist nuzzling the crook of her neck, nipping at her ear, then softly placing a kiss on her cheek. She sighed in her sleep as his lips lingered on her perfect skin a fraction of a second more than intended.

In her sleep, she stretched like a contented feline and rolled over onto her stomach where he'd just been laying. A devilish grin crossed his face as he stood at the bedside looking down at her. What a tempting sight. Long, shapely legs tangled up in the bed covers and her bare backside calling to him like a siren, enticing him to crawl back into bed with her.

Tightening the reins on his desire, he pulled what little cover he could up over her without waking her. Then on padded feet, walked across the hardwood floor to stand by the open window.

A light summer breeze caressed his bare skin and played with the sheer curtains, making them drift gracefully about him. The nightly orchestra of crickets and tree frogs filled the air, while lacey wisps of clouds moved lazily across the face of a full moon.

Not caring about his nudity, he stood peering down at the empty street below. From the second story bedroom window, his keen eyes saw nothing unusual. But, the hairs on the back of his neck were still standing on end.

Someone – or _something_ – was out there in the shadows watching. He was sure of it.

But who? It could be Aros out there skulking around, but then again that wasn't the lead bloodsucker's MO. No, The Volturi wouldn't hide in the shadows; they would have already made their presence known if it were them. Besides, it'd been nearly seven years since the confrontation involving the Cullens, The Packs, and The Volturi. Ever since then everything between the factions was relatively peaceful. The only times when things got tense were when Aros would send an emissary once a year to check on Renesmee's progress. He wanted to be kept abreast of her astonishing transformation into adulthood.

So, several months back, Jacob had been surprised when, out of the blue, Alice had taken him aside and told him that he had to take Renesmee and leave. To disappear. She instructed him not to tell anyone, not even Bella or Edward, where they were going. That it was a matter of life and death. And when he'd asked why they had to leave, she'd only told him that a storm was coming. He didn't doubt Alice's prediction, so, without hesitation, took Renesmee far away.

Unfortunately, they'd left a month before the next Volturi visit. Jacob was certain that Aros was livid at their disappearance or, to be more precise, at Renesmee's departure from his watchful eye.

Still racking his brain on who might be following them, Jacob was caught off guard when from behind Renesmee wrapped her arms around him. Breathing in deeply to control the startled wolf inside, Jacob let himself relax. A vision of them together just hours before making love skimmed his consciousness. Smiling he turned around and cupped her face, "Is that a hint, love?" he asked as he looked into her dark brown eyes.

"It is a reminder," she promised seductively, "of what awaits you in our bed."

Jacob tenderly brushed back her long dark hair from her sweet face. "I see." He said as his thumb skimmed across her lips. Mesmerized, Jacob bent his head and captured her mouth in a kiss. A low growl escaped him when her tongue darted into his mouth. He deepened the kiss as he slid his hands down her back and over her ass. Pulling her roughly against him, he let her feel just how much he wanted her. White-hot desire shot through him when she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered his name. In one swift movement, he lifted her up causing her to wrap her legs tight around his waist.

He savored the feel of her body against his as he walked them over to the bed. He gently laid her down then stretched his full length on top of her. Supporting his weight on his forearms, Jacob looked down at the woman that was his.

"Why were you standing at the window? What's out there." She asked as her hands glided up and down his back.

Trying to keep his wits about him, he shook his dark head, "Nothing," he said nipping at her neck.

And as she giggled and squirmed underneath him, he informed her, "I was just waiting for you to wake up."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He said as he kissed the tip of her nose.

"Why?"

"So that we could start where we left off."

"Oh? And where was that?"

With a wicked, wolfish grin, he kissed his way down to the juncture of her thighs and before feasting on what she had to offer told her, "I'm not for sure, but I think it was right here."

Laughter turned into moans as the two lovers once again explored each other.

Even during their lovemaking, the wolf, deep within, kept vigil. The threat may have passed, but something lurked out of sight.

Something was coming.


	2. Chapter 2

The lazy midsummer sun bathed the bustling town of Volterra, Italy, in a warm golden glow; brightening everything it touched throughout the whole valley. Many of the buildings, with their snow-white stucco walls and terracotta tiled roofs, gleamed like strings of polished pearls laid out along the green hills. Even the three-thousand-year-old Etruscan castle, that sat like a sentinel atop the tallest hillside overlooking the town, radiated like a beacon.

Of course, looks were deceiving. Nobody - no human being that is - knew that the ancient fortress was inhabited by the deadliest, most powerful vampire coven that ever roamed the face of the earth.

 _TheVolturi_.

They lived three floors beneath the structure, well hidden from the prying eyes of townspeople and tourists who strolled the civilized areas above ground. The more private rooms of the castle boasted hidden entrances and exits. Intricate, mind-boggling mazes let its occupants move about undetected. Anyone not knowing the layout of the medieval keep, however, could easily get lost trying to find their way around. Or, in most instances, desperately trying to find their way out.

In one such tunnel a vampire journeyed. The sound of his sure-footed cadence echoing off the stone walls. The tunnel's blackness devoured him and shrouded him from view. He marched past torches that sat unlit in their wall sconces covered in dust and cobwebs. Of course, the absence of light was no deterrent. At least not to someone who possessed such keen vision. Absolute confidence let him blindly maneuver the twists and turns of the tunnel with ease.

Some would say such an ability was to one's advantage. Others could argue that such a gift was a curse. Whatever the verdict, the fact was that Sage DeMarco had spent half of his undead life living in the underbelly of Volturi Castle. He knew everything there was to know about the stronghold. And he also knew everything there was to know about everyone – and everything - living in and near the castle. He made it his business to know. After all, he was the Commander of the Crimson Guard.

Commander of the _Queen's_ Crimson Guard to be precise.

Proceeding with due hast to the Queen's chambers, the dank and musty smell of the tunnel invaded Sage's heightened senses, unearthing memories that had been long ago buried. He recalled, with bitter disdain, when his life changed forever. It had been a little over six thousand years ago, but to him, it was as if it were just yesterday. The events leading up to his death were still fresh in his mind. He and his men had been returning home from battle when they'd stumbled across a young girl's body along the banks of the Tigris river. She looked to be no more than twenty or so and very close to death. Her long black hair, wet from the river, lay covering her face. It was in stark contrast to her pale, soft skin. After detecting a faint pulse, Sage, for some strange reason, had an overwhelming urge to save the unconscious girl. Even his men – seasoned warriors and cold-hearted bastards that they were – also had felt a protectiveness towards her. Without them knowing, the strange girl's perceived helplessness had sucked them all into a never-ending nightmare.

Still unconscious, the group had thought to let her regain her strength and so made camp in a stand of trees near the river. That night, as they slept, she'd awoken and attacked everyone in camp. Before they could raise their swords in defense, she had drained them of nearly all their blood. With such lose they were all tittering on the edge of death.

Weak and dying, Sage had begged her with his last remaining breath to spare his men. That he would do anything for her.

Seizing the moment, the girl agreed to help. She'd convinced the men that if they'd merely drink her blood, they'd be saved. Out of desperation - and to the sadistic bitch's amusement - they did as she'd instructed.

Soon they all were withering in pain as the young girl simply watched. She informed them that the only way to ease their suffering was to feed on the blood of another before the sun rose in the morning. If they did not, they would indeed die. She must have seen the disgust on their faces for she told them that if they wished to say a final farewell to their loved ones to do it soon before death swept them away.

Not knowing that the sight of any human would trigger their unquenchable thirst, the group of soldiers set off to the village to spend their last remaining hours in the arms of their family and loved ones. Unfortunately, by morning all the inhabitants were dead and without realizing it, Sage and his men had sealed their fate for eternity. They all would have been better off dead, rotting in the desert sun. Instead, they were bound by blood to a creature that became their tormentor. Their Mistress. Their Queen.

Sage stopped and closed his eyes. He reached out and placed a hand on the stonewall to steady himself. Still, after all these years, he could hear the screams of his wife as she watched him drain the life out of their infant son. The look of horror on her lovely face as he began to feed on her. And the disbelief in her warm brown eyes before her life faded away. After all these hundreds of years, he was still haunted by his sin.

Stomping down the memory Sage continued his trek. He'd been summoned. But why? It had to be of extreme importance; she never woke this early in the day, not without just cause. Lilith ruled the many covens of vampires from her throne. She rarely ventured forth. Sage couldn't remember the last time she'd been outside the walls of the castle. Centuries of experience, however, told him that whatever the reason it did not bode well for anyone. Sage was the general of the Queen's guard, but even he was not immune to her wraith. Lilith was a creature of exquisite beauty and extreme cruelty. She delighted in another's torment and pain.

Such as that night centuries ago when he begged her to kill him so that he could burn in hell for killing the ones he loved so dear. She just laughed at him and refused his request.

"You are mine, dear sweet Sage. You will do my bidding and if, and only if, you prove yourself loyal only to me, I will grant your wish and send you to the afterlife to be with your precious wife and child."

Of course, that never happened. No matter how many he killed at her command. No matter how many lives he destroyed in her name, she always said it was never enough to show his loyalty.

Even when he became her lover, she would whisper in his ear as he lost himself to her, "Do you really think your wife would want you now? Look at yourself. Do you think she could ever forgive such a beast? Blood taints your very soul. It blackens it. No one wants you but me."

So, after some time he gradually forgot his request. He buried the memory of his human life and all that shared it. Letting his soul become mired in lust, bloodthirst, and destruction Sage simply existed. He cared not for himself or for the many lives he'd taken over time. He dutifully waited for his turn when death itself would look favorably on him and end his miserable existence. Sage literally was a dead man walking.

The crash of pottery pulled Sage out of his thoughts and had him sprinting down the corridor. Within seconds he stood in the doorway of the throne room. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. The sight before him was certainly one for the books.

Aro on his knees and Lilith standing over him like the regal Queen she was.

"What do you mean she is gone? Where, exactly, did that little bitch go?!"


End file.
